


His Hunger and Thirst Were Quenched

by 2space_lesbo1



Category: Red Dead Redemption (Video Games)
Genre: Brotherly Love, Epilogues, Gen, High Honor Arthur Morgan, Hunting, Kinda, One-Shot, Post-Game, Reincarnation, Short, symbolic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-13
Updated: 2020-04-13
Packaged: 2021-03-02 04:14:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,643
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23638897
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/2space_lesbo1/pseuds/2space_lesbo1
Summary: John spots a buck wandering his ranch one day.
Relationships: John Marston & Arthur Morgan
Comments: 4
Kudos: 83





	His Hunger and Thirst Were Quenched

**Author's Note:**

> i finally fully played rdr2 
> 
> and i cried so hard at the end my brother checked up on me cause he thought i was hurt kakwelsmal
> 
> which i was. in my heart 
> 
> i liked the idea of reincarnation within the game. 
> 
> let me know what you think, though!

He noticed the buck one day while he was tending to his ranch- how odd, still, to call it his ranch? It was an insane thought to him, still, and he'd had the ranch for a few months now. He was filling the horse’s trough with water when he saw it moving in the corner of his eye, walking at the edge of the ranch’s perimeter, just beyond the fence. He'd paused in his chore to stare at it in part confusion and part curiosity. Not many deer could be found in these parts, especially not ones of the white-tailed family. Yet there was a white-tailed buck before his very eyes, challenging his previous assumption. 

He peered around it to try and find the rest of its herd- maybe some doe and a couple of other stags- and ended up frowning when he spotted none. It was merely the buck and the buck alone, watching him from the top of a yellow hill, just as he was watching it. 

Almost as if it had been studying him as well. 

He'd set his mind that he would go looking for it once he was finished with his chores. So, a few hours later, once his chores were done and put aside, he'd headed straight for the spot he'd seen the buck. It wasn't there anymore, unsurprising, and he easily picked up on its tracks. 

Yet, oddly enough, no matter how hard he followed the tracks or searched for the buck, he could not find it. It kept alluding him, trotting just out of his field of vision. It never seemed to stray too far from the edges of the ranch, though, so that should have made finding the damn thing easy. Yet John ended up panting as he leaned against the fence for the fifth loop around the perimeter, eye twitching when he finally spotted the buck not too far off. 

It seemed to be mocking him at this point, if that was something a deer was capable of, as it stared at him, swaying its head and its great antlers side to side. It was even pawing at the ground with one of its front hooves, giving him the appearance of a challenge. 

As soon as he reached for his gun, the buck was off again, and he let out a grunt of frustration as he gave chase to it once more. He wouldn't be trying so hard with any other game if it wasn't so uncommon to find said game in the area, and if it weren't mocking him. Sure, it was stupid and petty to be insulted and led on by a deer of all things, but John had always been known to not be the brightest. 

So here he was now, getting his horse Rachel saddled up so he could catch up with the damned buck easier. Abigail had questioned him, and he waved her off with the statement that he was just trying to get them a large amount of food. Which wasn't entirely untrue. The buck was one of the largest John had seen, well fed, groomed, and carrying a lot of venison that would feed them for at least a week. 

So, yes, John was chasing after it for the food. Not because it had mocked him. 

He pulls on Rachel’s reins as the buck suddenly veers from the constant path it had been set on, disappearing into the trees as a town suddenly comes into view. He blinked, surprised by this sudden appearance. He'd been so set on following the buck he hadn't even noticed how far he'd traveled- they are far from Black Water, now traversing through the Heartlands if John could guess correctly. 

Damn. He hadn't been in this area in years. 

He shakes himself from his stupor and urges Rachel after the buck through the trees, gaining only a few grunts of protest from his loyal steed. She hasn't seemed too happy with this course of action they've been on, but she went along with it anyway. She seemed to sense his annoyance and distractedness and decided to make it easier on him by giving him no extra problems. 

She does, however, whiny with frustration as they begin to head up the side of a mountain just past Valentine, of all places. He pats her neck and offers her a treat in the form of apology, and she greatly munches on the apple as they continue up. 

The buck was a few feet ahead of them now. It would do this thing, occasionally, where if John couldn't find it for at least half an hour, it would reveal itself up further on the path clearly in his sights. It would then wait for him to notice it and set to follow it again before it would take off ahead once more. 

If John didn't know any better, he'd think this buck was leading him somewhere. Which was a ridiculous thought, since it was a deer and couldn't hold thoughts such as that. 

Yet he couldn't shake that feeling away, still. 

Not much later the buck is veering from the path once more, further up into rocky terrain. John sighs and grits his teeth, but decides that he's come too far to simply break off from it now. Rachel’s hooves clop against the rocks and boulders as they travel further and further up the side of the mountain. 

Finally, they break over the edge of one last bump and the edge of the mountain could be seen just below them. There was a patch of grass resting along the top of this cliff, trees lining the edge as it slopes back down towards flatter ground. Flowers adorned the green stalks, all kinds of different colors, and John begins to feel at ease just resting near this clearing. It holds a calming atmosphere around it, like it was a place where no harm could be done to you while you rested there. 

The call of an eagle flying over his head breaks him from his calmed state, and he watches it fly off into the distance. His eyes drift back to the clearing, and eventually land on the buck once more, finding it standing near the edge’s center, a great boulder blocking it and the drop off. 

As John slides from the saddle slowly, trying not to startle the buck as restart this whole chase once more, the deer looks back at him, and he is only now struck by how blue its eyes are. Any other deer’s eyes were a dark brown, almost black color, with not much variation. And yet, this buck’s eyes were a startlingly familiar blue to him, almost the same hue of the sky surrounding them. 

The buck flicks its tail and shakes its head, before it steps aside, revealing wood shaped into a circular cross. He pauses when he sees it, all ill intent towards the deer forgotten as he takes in what must be someone’s grave. The deer huffs as he draws closer, but does not flee now, instead watching him crouch just in front of the headstone to read its inscription. 

“Arthur Morgan; Blessed Are Those Who Hunger And Thirst For Righteousness” 

John’s breath catches in his throat as he finishes reading this, and he lightly brushes his fingers along the carving of the achingly familiar name. His heart aches in his chest as he recalled the face of the one buried beneath him, the one who had saved him and sacrificed everything to give him a second chance at life. 

He starts when the buck beside him- the one he'd been so intent on hunting and killing, the one he had completely forgotten about in his renewed grief- bumps its nose against his shoulder. He tears his eyes from the headstone, meets the buck’s gaze- which was so, so blue, and so, so sad. Achingly sad, almost- and sees what had been there this entire time. What he hadn't been able to see so caught up in his annoyance of its mockery. 

He can't stop the small chuckle from shaking his body- no, it was not a sob, he was a man, he doesn't cry- and reaches a hand up to pat the buck’s neck. The buck sets itself down beside him, the flowers around them seeming to curl towards it- him. He huffs again as John scratches at his side, the fur softer than it had looked before. 

“Ya know, I nearly shot you,” John told the buck beside him, not caring if he looked crazy to any passerby. Not as if many people came out this far from the path, anyway. They were most likely alone, and he didn't mind the fact. 

The buck snorts, almost a chuckle, and shakes his head, like to say, “There's no way you woulda been able to shoot me, Marston. Yer a horrible shot!” And John could nearly hear his voice again, as though they really were speaking to one another again. 

“I mean it,” John said seriously, and the buck raises his ears at his raspy voice. “You’re so fat and full of meat I'm still tempted to kill ya.” 

The buck knocks his head against John’s temple, denying what he just said. “You bastard,” John said with a slight chuckle himself as he pushed the deer’s head from his own playfully. “You think you know it all, huh?” 

They both fall silent as the sun begins to set nearby, just to the west where Arthur had always enjoyed watching it. Just where he'd been laid to rest, to watch it forever. Or they'd thought he would, until this buck had shown up. 

“Good to see you again, brother,” John muttered, setting his hand on the buck’s shoulder and leaving it there. 

Arthur doesn't shake it off.

**Author's Note:**

> i'm thinking about doing another one shot for low honor arthur as the coyote


End file.
